


Crema Verse Prompt Fill #67

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Crema Verse [70]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Crema verse, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Picnics, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2812514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine brings Kurt a homemade lunch to his job at Vogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crema Verse Prompt Fill #67

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by suchalilyofthevalley who told me to write whatever I wanted in this verse. This is the result.

“This is stupid.”

  
Blaine says it to the rows of fine cheeses laid out in front of him, square and rectangle and round with names he can’t hope to pronounce and prices he really doesn’t want to look at.  He’s standing in the middle of the grocery story – a nicer one than where he usually shops – and he has no idea what he’s doing.

 

He’d had a damn fool thought of bringing Kurt lunch the other week and hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind since.

 

Blaine has never thought himself one for great, grand gestures of romance; never thought he’d be in a relationship at all, let alone one like this.  He knows it hasn’t been that long and he knows that things can fall apart, that feelings can change and lives can separate; different roads in a wood and streets in a city.  But this, this thing he has with Kurt, it doesn’t feel like something that could flag or fail. It feels something like forever.

 

“It’s just a lunch,” he whispers to a brick of sharp cheddar.  There is no response.

 

He just wants to do something for Kurt, Kurt who was so patient with him and continues to be.  Kurt who looks at him like he not only hung the moon but brought it into being in the first place.  They go on dates, and that’s wonderful, and they have long nights tangled warm together, and that’s wonderful too.  But Kurt works and so does Blaine, on top of school, and sometimes too many days pass when they can’t see each other.  And suddenly the thought of surprising Kurt at work with a homemade lunch had taken over.

 

Blaine imagines himself with a perfect little picnic basket – maybe with sandwiches and fruit, or some fine cheese and crispy crackers – waltzing into the Conde Nast building and being directed to the Vogue offices.  He imagines the look of surprise, and then adoration, that would spread across Kurt’s lovely face when he sees Blaine, out of his Starbucks uniform and out from behind his counter.

 

Lunch is the least Blaine can offer; and he has so little to offer besides.

 

But standing in the middle of this overwhelming grocery store, with the choices numerous around him, Blaine is wondering if he should really reconsider his plans.  Would it be so bad to just pick something up from a restaurant that Kurt likes? Then at least Blaine would know the food would be good.  But all of Kurt’s favorite places are closer to his home than the office and Blaine doesn’t want the food to get cold.   And given the frigid January temperatures it wouldn’t take long atall. Besides, the point of this is being thoughtful; the point is doing something for Kurt to thank him for all he does for Blaine just by loving him.  Blaine can figure out some damn cheese and crackers.

 

“Go with the brie for sandwiches, dear,” a creaking voice advises from Blaine’s left.

 

When he looks over, a tiny woman in a floor length coat with a matching hat is standing at his elbow.  “I’m sorry?”

 

“Brie,” she repeats and she sounds like she’s been living off whiskey for the last 50 years.  “It’s perfect for sandwiches.  Spreads nicely when you’ve got it right.”

 

Blaine finds himself nodding and reaching for the package.  It’s expensive and he knows it, but he took on extra shifts all Christmas break since he had the time and it’s for Kurt.

 

“Excellent choice,” the old woman says. “And mark my words, dear. If he doesn’t like a good, sharp cheddar, don’t marry him.” She nods once, swift and sharp, and Blaine is left standing in the middle of the store with his mouth hanging open and a package of brie in his hands.

 

***

 

Blaine’s kitchen really isn’t meant for cooking, but luckily what he’s doing doesn’t quiet qualify as such.  Putting sandwiches together isn’t the most complicated thing he’s ever done in his life, Blaine reminds himself, staring at the ingredients spread out in front of him.  He’s a composer, he’s succeeding in a prestigious grad school, and, hardest of all, he’s working in customer service in New York City.  He can handle a little turkey and brie and green apple slices.

 

And it’s not like he’s a bad cook. He’s not.  He’s quite good when he has the time or money for something more than poor man’s tacos.  But this lunch is for Kurt.  Kurt who always looks like he should be dining in a Michelin star restaurant with his superb coats and his tailored pants and his lovely skin. And he’s at Vogue. Blaine can’t bring sloppy sandwiches to Vogue.

 

Blaine has a Tuesday off from work and class and he knows that Kurt doesn’t have any lunch plans or meetings.  It’s not that he demands to know Kurt’s schedule; Kurt texts him his calendar, letting Blaine know when he might be popping over to his Starbucks for a quick coffee.  Kurt’s break comes at 1pm most days and by noon Blaine has everything made and ready to go.

 

He puts it all in Tupperware because even though he’d like this to be something of a romantic moment, he’s not going to go out and get a picnic basket and carry it on the subway and through Times Square. Though it certainly wouldn’t be the weirdest thing anyone has ever seen in the city.  But Blaine still daydreams of a warm spring picnic in the Park with Kurt, sitting on a soft blanket with food from a wicker basket spread out around them.  Kurt might have his pencils and his sketchbook and maybe Blaine would have his class notes, or even his composition book, tapping out a new rhythm with his fingers against Kurt’s thigh.

 

There will be another day for that.

 

***

 

The Conde Nast lobby is huge and imposing, bustling with suited men and heeled women.  Blaine feels small and supremely out of place in his jeans, even though his heavy pea coat (a gift from Cooper his first winter in the city) is as fine as anything.  He’d chosen it because it’s one of the nicest things he owns, even if it does still smell of coffee from being tucked in his closet.  And if he’s going be surrounded by the height of the fashion industry, he’s at least going to attempt to look a little less like a poor college kid making a delivery.

 

If he’s going to announce himself as Kurt’s boyfriend to Kurt’s co-workers he’s going to look as good as he can.

 

Blaine steps up to the grand reception desk. “Hi, uh, Blaine Anderson here to see Kurt Hummel, Carrie Bradshaw’s assistant.”

 

“Is he expecting you?” The woman with a severe ponytail and a Bluetooth headset asks.

 

“Uhm, we’re having a lunch.” 

 

The woman eyes him up and down, brow quirking when she sees the brown paper bag in his hands.  “Are you?  One moment.”

 

Blaine shifts nervously as the woman dials a number. All around him he can hear the clatter of heels on the marble floors and the din of voices chattering away.

 

“Hi, I have Blaine Anderson for you. Yes, for _you_.  All right, I’ll send him up.”  The woman gaze flicks back up at Blaine.  “You can go on up.”

  
Blaine swallows and nods. “Thank you.”

 

He makes his way through the lobby towards the elevator bank, palms sweating as the elevator car takes him up and up. When the doors open the Vogue offices wait for him.  There’s another reception desk with a young woman on the phone.  She nods hello at him, but indicates that he should sit and wait.  He’s about to take a seat in one of the comfortable looking chairs when a familiar voice catches his attention.

 

“Blaine?”

 

He turns.  It’s Kurt, coming down the hallway, and Blaine’s heart gives that extra beat it always does when he sees him.  He’s wearing tightly fitted black pants and a snug royal purple button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top buttons undone, exposing his fine-boned wrists and his smooth throat.  A sleek black vest is buttoned up over the shirt, accentuating his waist, and Blaine’s heart double-beats for an entirely different reason.

 

“Hey.” Blaine is blushing and he doesn’t know why.

 

“What’s going on? Reception called up to say you were here.”  Kurt comes up to him, reaching out to clasp Blaine’s wrist as he presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

 

“I uh, I just wanted to see you,” Blaine says and he catches the scent of Kurt’s shampoo and his cologne.  “And I brought you lunch.”

 

Kurt steps back and finally seems to notice the paper bag gripped in Blaine’s other hand.  His eyes brighten and a smile starts to curve his mouth. “You brought me lunch?”

 

“I – yeah.  I thought it would be…nice.”  Blaine can feel his cheeks are flushed bright, but Kurt’s eyes are warm as they rove over his face.

 

“I love you,” Kurt murmurs before he ducks in and presses the soft, sweetest kiss to Blaine’s lips, right there in the middle of the Vogue office, and Blaine’s whole soul feels full.

 

“Come on.”  Kurt takes Blaine’s hand and tugs him back down the hallway. “I’m starving,” he says, leading them past different offices.  “I mean, I’m so happy to see you, but ooh, lunch.”  
  
Blaine laughs and squeezes Kurt’s hand.  

 

“Oh wait.” Kurt pauses in front of an open door. “I want you to meet someone. Hey, Chase.”

 

Inside the office a dark-haired man is standing near a tall window, looking at two glossy photos in his hands.  A strange tightness fills Blaine’s chest as the man glances up when Kurt calls his name.  “Hey.  You need something? I’ve got the proofs for Carrie for next week.”

 

“No actually, just wanted to introduce you to someone.” Kurt tugs Blaine fully into the room.  “Chase, this is Blaine.”

 

Chase cocks an intrigued eyebrow at Blaine. He’s attractive in a smooth way, well dressed and perfectly put together.  Blaine wishes his shoes were newer.  

 

“Ah yes, the elusive Blaine,” Chase says, putting his photos aside.  “Kurt talks about you a lot.”  He steps forward to shake Blaine’s hand.  His grip is firm, but friendly.  “I mean, _a lot_. Can’t shut up about you, actually.  Gets a little annoying sometimes.”

 

Blaine huffs a laugh as the tightness leaves his chest. He’s used to feeling inadequate. He’s used to feeling like there a million men better for Kurt than him.  And the sharp flare of worry that took him when he saw Chase is familiar too, but it eases quickly.  Kurt is standing close to him, a warm hand in the small of his back, and Chase is smirking like he thinks it’s nothing but funny how much Kurt talks about Blaine.  It reminds him he really has nothing at all to worry about when it comes to him and Kurt and what they are to each other.

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Blaine says. “Kurt really loves it here and I can see why.”

 

Chase grins.  “Well, we love having him.”

 

“All right, that’s enough,” Kurt interrupts. “You two can talk about me more later.”

 

Blaine lets Kurt lead him back down the hallway, listening as Kurt points out his coworkers and different parts of the office. He loves to see Kurt at work, surrounded by the people who inspire him, who are helping his develop his skills.  Blaine thinks it’s the same as how he feels in the music room at school, or in a theatre with an orchestra waiting for his music.

 

“This is me,” Kurt announces.  He doesn’t have his own office; his desk is situated in an open space just outside of a door marked with his boss’ name. Blaine can see the touches of Kurt – the calendar with his handwriting and the vase on his desk with fresh flowers.

 

“I like it.” Blaine says, looking around, taking everything in as Kurt pulls a chair around so Blaine can sit next to him.

 

“Okay, what did you bring me?” Kurt rubs his hands together as Blaine starts to pulls Tupperware out of the bag.

 

“It’s not much, but--”

 

Kurt tuts.  “Don’t do that.  You made me lunch.  It’s going to be amazing.”  The conviction in Kurt’s voice rings in Blaine’s bones and he knocks their knees together.

 

Along with the turkey and brie sandwiches, Blaine has a little selection of cheeses and crackers and he’d found some fresh fruit to have alongside.  He’d considered bringing some soup as well, since it’s winter and soup is the perfect cold-weather meal, but he didn’t want it to get cold and he wasn’t sure what would go well with turkey anyway.

 

“I thought about bringing some wine, but I wasn’t sure that’d be appropriate,” Blaine says and Kurt laughs.

 

“No, probably not.  But later.”  There’s a banked heat in his eyes when he glances at Blaine and that has Blaine blushing again.  He’s pretty sure Kurt will be coming over to his apartment after work. “This is amazing, Blaine. Thank you.”

 

“You’re very welcome.”

 

Pride swells in Blaine’s chest when Kurt takes a bite of his sandwich and moans outrageously.  “Good?” Blaine asks and Kurt just nods around his full mouth.

 

“Amazing,” Kurt mumbles and Blaine settles in his chair.  It’s nice to share this lunch with Kurt, crowded at his desk with homemade food, feet bumping and knees knocking.  Moments like these let Blaine think about the next days and the next months (and hopefully the next years), long stretches of life he hopes to share with Kurt.

 

“Ooh, sharp cheddar.” Kurt says suddenly, reaching across the desk to pick up a slice of the cheese.  “I _love_ sharp cheddar.”

 

Blaine blinks slowly and a smile curves his mouth as warmth spreads through his body.  “I love it too.”  He kisses Kurt’s cheek, lips lingering, and the future is so much more real.


End file.
